And, of course, being paid to use your body effectively in athletic competition meant that you had to have the muscles to perform at the level where you got paid.
It was too bad that I’d had experience with the so-called “hot guy” that ended so badly and so violently that a restraining order came into play.
It was too bad that I always had a “no-touch” rule with clients. There was no chance I would do anything more than shake Nick’s hand.
But boy, if there ever was someone to break the rule for…
“Izzy?”
“Jesus!” I yipped as I jumped in my chair, turning around just in time to see my boss, Jordan, the chief marketing officer at our firm, standing in our door. “Sorry, was not expecting you.”
“Apparently so,” she said with a gentle smile.
I liked working for Jordan. She was much older than me and had taken on something of a parental role at the firm. She knew how hard I worked as a single mom. She didn’t know the details of why I had put the “single” in “single mom,” but she knew enough to know it hadn’t been a decision made on solid ground, and she had more than done her part to make sure I came through the situation as intact as possible.
“Everything all good?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, catching my breath. “Just doing research on our speaker for the Fresno State job fair.”
“Ohhh, is that Nick Ferrari?”
Apparently, the name was far more common than I thought. Jordan was married with two preteen girls, both of whom were more interested in the arts than athletics. I would have figured she’d watched more modern-day MTV shows than baseball games.
“Yep. He confirmed within ten minutes of me sending the email. I have never seen someone say yes so fast.”
“Well, you know how athletes are with their schools. It means so much to them.”
I decided it was probably best not to mention how he had said he wanted to meet me personally.
“Well, I was coming in to see if you needed any help wrangling anyone in, but from the looks of it, you are well ahead of the curve in that regard.”
“Luckily,” I said. “I definitely did not think it would work out.”
“Well, sometimes, it does,” she said, and I knew she didn’t just mean with work. “Email me if you run into any problems with logistics.”
“Will do,” I said as my phone buzzed in my pocket, though I positioned myself so that Jordan didn’t notice it.
As soon as she left, though, I grabbed it. I had unfortunately become a bit compulsive with checking my messages whenever one came in, as I never knew when something with Ryan would come up. He was a good kid, and he actually let me sleep at night, but one could never be too careful.
The buzzing was to alert me I had an email in my personal inbox, one that I had been very diligent about preventing from falling on subscription lists and whatnot. I was almost zealous about having inbox zero be a thing because life was already hectic enough as a single parent.
“Malcolm let out of jail early for good behavior.”
The headline of the email made me slink into my chair. It was the worst possible news that I could have read. Seriously? Good behavior?
Good fucking behavior?? Did the prison system even watch him, or did they just get bored and play roulette on who to let out early with that bullshit of an excuse? Did they need to be reminded of the evidence of what he had done to me and how badly he had done it?
I locked my phone, weakly tossed it to the back corner of the desk, and let out a very long sigh. I did not need Malcolm to ruin my life any further. If I could, at the risk of sounding ridiculous, I would have worked to get him a job in Maine just so I wouldn’t ever have to deal with his jealous, controlling ass ever again.
And yet, here he was, about to be free, about to be able to stalk me. Did anyone really think a “restraining order” was going to stop him? The only thing that would keep him away was an actual restraint. The man saw obstacles and legal threats as comedy—and unfortunately, not even jail time would probably prevent him from coming for me.
Well, I had options.
I could quit work, take Ryan and my parents, and move to the country. I was a good enough marketer and event organizer that I felt I could find work just about anywhere, but there would obviously be time, and I didn’t like the idea of Malcolm controlling my life. He was the worst thing to ever happen to me, but that didn’t mean I had to change my life fundamentally.
I could stay in town, just act like nothing had changed, and go on with my life. Unfortunately, that was equally dumb, probably more so; the greatest danger of Malcolm was that he was relentless in what he did and could not be stopped by anything other than what physically held him back.
Maybe I just need someone who will go and beat the shit out of him and teach him a lesson. Maybe that will work? If there was anyone it wouldn’t work on, though, it was Malcolm.
But, for now, at least, he wouldn’t have an
